The Volunteer State

NOW YOU KNOW

February 02, 2003|By KEVIN RENNIE

Your repertoire of state employee jokes is about to take a hit. Nathan Hale has some competition for state hero.

While the governor, the legislature and union leaders have been locked in a stare-down over the budget deficit, people have been losing their jobs. We see the immediate effects on the day layoff notices are delivered and then on the subsequent day when employees leave their jobs. Then there is the day after that, which gets little attention. That's when some workers came back to the public defender's office.

``I really love working here,'' says investigator Mark Caporale. ``And I've met a lot of people who need help.'' He was one of 33 employees in the public defender's office to lose his job. Without skipping a beat, he volunteered to keep showing up for work.

Not many readers of Northeast are likely to need the services of a public defender. Few may even know someone who does. Think of what they do this way: Recall that feeling you get when you first notice the flashing lights of a police cruiser behind you. Remember how it grows when you realize those lights are meant for you? And that's just for a traffic violation. Add a serious charge and poverty and you get an idea of whom public defenders represent. Last year, the office handled nearly 80,000 cases.

There are 400 permanent employees in the public defender's office serving those thousands of defendants. That includes lawyers, secretaries, social workers, investigators and administrators. As bureaucracies go, it is a lean operation with a reputation for dedicated employees. There is a team spirit in those 39 offices around Connecticut that any high-priced corporate trainer would envy.

Two investigators in New Haven and one in New Britain have agreed to stay on. They hope the budget troubles that afflict the state will have a resolution. Until that elusive day, they continue to do the work they love. Each has the advantage of a previous career in police work that provides a pension. Nevertheless, each could also find a job now that pays something in addition to daily satisfaction.

These are not guys with desk jobs. Sure, they do a lot of work on the phone. They also need to step into harm's way more often than most people. The investigators go out on the road ``for subpoenas, photos and tracking witnesses,'' according to Ken Tramadeo, 54, an investigator in New Britain. He spent 26 years on the Newington police force before joining the public defender's office more than two years ago.

Tramadeo often sees in his office people he dealt with in his previous career, and, he notes, their children. With the sound of a guy who is a soft touch, Tramadeo says he can keep helping because he ``has it better than most.'' He notes that if he weren't at the office, there would be only one investigator left, with far too much work to do. The defendants who are victims of mistaken identity, for example, might be convicted without the help of investigators. In his office, Tramadeo says it happens about once a month. That's a chilling thought in an age when the police and prosecutors have ever-expanding powers.

Caporale works on as many as 60 cases at a time in the New Haven public defender's office in the courthouse on Elm Street. Twenty-six years on the New Haven police force provides the retired detective with experience the lawyers in his office find invaluable. He knows the murky world of dark hallways and tough neighborhoods in which a lot of arrests are made, and which his job requires him to visit.

Caporale, 49, is struck by the lawyers he works with, ``who are all dedicated.'' The lawyers appreciate him, too. New Haven would have lost two of its four investigators with the layoffs. Caporale is now their only guy in the field in an office that usually has 2,500 cases pending. ``We couldn't function without his help,'' says Joan Leonard, who heads the office. ``It's gratifying to know there are people so dedicated to what we do.''

Mark Masse, 37, was a Meriden police officer for 14 years until he was injured making a collar. He's in the other New Haven public defender's office, over on Church Street, which handles major crimes. After seven months on the job, he was let go. Nevertheless, he's still ``hittin' the street and trying to get down to the truth -- and it's cold out there.'' Masse works nights and weekends tracking down witnesses and interviewing clients. He's no stranger to the stakeout, and his enthusiastic personality undoubtedly gets people to talk.

His boss, Tom Ullman, hails Masse's experience and ``great intuitive skills to investigate the scene of an alleged crime.''